Maybe It's a Fall From Grace
by lynnja
Summary: During his seventh year at Hogwarts, everything is going perfect for Blaise Zabini. Well, it was until he was challenged to use his charm on a certain Gryffindor. That was probably when everything got shot to hell.
1. On the Hogwarts Express

**Maybe It's a Fall From Grace**

**Warnings**: dubcon, possible non con, slash pairings, dark themes, all that jazz

**Pairings:** Neville/Blaise, possible others

* * *

><p>The year promised to be a good one for Blaise Zabini. Of course, with looks and money as he had, every year had proved to be a good one. This one just seemed to start off better than others. It was his last year, and Voldemort – or as he called him, the Dark Lord – was in power. Harry Potter was on the run, Snape was headmaster, and his house rule d the school. Well. Draco was proving to be not quite up to snuff, but seeing as how he killed their previous headmaster only a few months ago, Blaise supposed that was to be expected.<p>

They took their usual seats, at the front of the Hogwarts Express, for the ride. It was Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy. So much had occurred over the summer, so much had changed, but they really had not, so the first thing they took to discussing was the other students.

"Did you see Brown? If her hair gets any bushier, she'll be looking like Granger. All she'll need is the buck teeth."

Everyone laughed at Pansy's joke and she sat back in her seat, looking rather pleased with herself. 

"Did you see that Hufflepuff? He looked stupid." 

A chortle ran through the group at Crabbe's effort, but as soon as the other boy wasn't looking, Blaise rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if the cracks about the general intelligence level of his house wasn't half accurate. 

"How about Longbottom?" Draco asked. Blaise perked up. He'd noticed Longbottom as well, something that didn't escape Draco's notice. He looked over at the dark-skinned Slytherin and continued, "He's looking… well, like your type." It was common knowledge that Blaise would do anything with two legs, no matter the genitalia. 

Blaise thought back to the few seconds that he managed to see Longbottom while he was at the station. It was true, the boy was looking nice. He'd grown a few inches, though not enough to match Blaise and a lot of his baby fat had turned to muscle. If it wasn't for the hideous sweater, the boy might actually be 'his type'. 

When he spoke, his voice was cold. "If it wasn't for the fact that he's one of the biggest blood traitors alive, maybe. As it is, I wouldn't even condescend to speak with him." In the back of his mind, he remembered having a similar conversation about the Weasley girl. "Besides, what makes you think he'd be interested?" 

Pansy snorted. "Does that even matter? You put on that charm, I bet the giant squid would go out with you." Draco looked over at her, but she just shrugged. "Besides, when has Longbottom shown any interest in girls?" 

"There's the one troll, the blonde Ravenclaw." Everyone turned to look at Goyle, moderately impressed that he had something to add to the conversation. Even he looked slightly startled. 

Blaise considered it for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe, but I don't think so. She's got her head so far in the clouds, I don't think she even knows she's female." He scoffed at the notion, then realized that they'd been talking about Neville Longbottom for far longer than he would have liked. "So, does anyone know who the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be? Seeing as how Snape is headmaster now…" 

It was Draco who answered. "It's going to be one of the Carrow sibilings. You know them, right?" At Pansy and Blaise's confused faces (Crabbe and Goyle always looked confused, so there was nothing new there) Draco elaborated, "They're supporters of the Dark Lord. You'll like them. I think we're going to do something similar to the Inquisitorial Squad. You remember, from fifth year." 

Blaise wasn't actually a part of the squad, but he could remember. It sounded nice enough, though he really didn't care that much. 

"I can't wait to make Longbottom's year a living hell," Draco said. Blaise considered asking him what his grief was with the Gryffindor, but he could make an intelligent guess. With Potter gone and Longbottom such a … delicate target, tearing him apart would be _fun_ for Draco. And, thinking back on the young man that had been struggling with his bloody toad on the platform, Blaise couldn't help but agree.


	2. A Chance Encounter

Classes were interesting to say the least. It was obvious that the loss of Dumbledore and the missing Burbage had a number of people unsettled, but as he was in Slytherin, wealthy, and everyone assumed he had some sort of relation to the Death Eaters, no one bothered him. The only sour note, in his eyes, was the Carrow sibilings. Crabbe and Goyle were pleased to do their bidding, along with a large number of other Slytherins, but Blaise himself thought the pair disgusting. It was amusing, to see them rant about how sick muggles were, when they were filthy themselves. Like so many other times in his life, he stayed out of it. Wasn't his problem. He didn't care.

"I can't believe we've still got classes with the Griffindors." Draco looked at the schedule as though it might have changed in the two weeks that they had already been going. Sure enough, it was the exact same and he gave a look of revulsion so similar to his father's that Blaise was startled.

He didn't look it though, and when Draco turned and nudged him, Blaise had resumed his poker face. "Look at Longbottom. Heard he got detention last night."

Blaise turned and looked, and sure enough, the boy looked like he'd been through hell. He staggered in to sit at the Griffindor table, helped the last few steps by Ginny, who got out of her chair to wrap an arm around his waist and lead him to a chair. The other Slytherins at the table laughed uproariously at the sight, but Blaise really couldn't care less. Apparently Longbottom could though, and the look he threw to the table as a whole was distraught.

"Bloody prat," Pansy said. Blaise just blinked and returned to his breakfast.

He was the last one to leave the table, as he worked on an essay for McGonagall as he ate. Hers was one class where nothing had changed – she was still just as hard on everyone else as before. She'd been playing an interesting role ever since Snape had become the Headmaster. Though she didn't openly defy him, or the Carrows, she still remained sympathetic to the 'cause'. Right now, from what he could tell, the 'cause' was just Neville and his friends causing havoc where they could and fancying themselves some kind of resistance.

Blaise stood up and went to leave the hall, shoving his scroll and books in the bag. He was halfway out before he bumped into something and his papers and bag scattered around the floor with a clatter.

"Bloody hell!"

"Ack! Sorry!"

It was none other than Longbottom that he'd run into. The boy had winced horribly at the contact, but recovered quickly, and was now scooping up the papers that Blaise had dropped. Blaise frowned and picked them up alongside him.

"Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going and-" Neville kept rambling on, but Blaise wasn't listening. Did Longbottom always apologize so much, or was it just because he was a Slytherin? His question was answered when Neville straightened up to hand him the papers, and went rigid.

"So-"

"If you apologize one more time, I'm going to curse you." Neville went pale and looked Blaise over, as though he was trying to figure out if the other was kidding or not. Blaise wasn't, but he didn't feel the need to tell the other that. After a moment he smiled and Neville relaxed, just a smidge. "Thanks."

Slowly, he took the offered papers and began to put them back in his bag. Neville took a step back, but he didn't walk all the way away. He looked as though he was thinking something over and he opened his mouth to speak. Blaise beat him to it. 

"If it's another apology you can shove it."

Neville gave him a half a grin, which surprised the Slytherin. He'd always assumed the other was some kind of spineless wimp, but apparently he'd come into some balls as of late. It was interesting, watching the boy going from dribbling out apologies to giving him that cocky look in a matter of second.

"Nah, just … never mind." Now Blaise was curious. He looked down and cocked an eyebrow, encouraging the other boy to continue without actually saying anything. To his frustration, the other didn't elaborate; he shook his head and turned to leave the hall. "Catch you later."

Blaise didn't say anything else, because if he did, it would just be to Neville's retreating back. Which, as long as he was looking… was rather attractive. Pity about the detention Longbottom had received, it slowed him down a bit, though there was still a little swag in his step. Blaise wasn't sure what had just happened between the two of them, and he wasn't sure what Neville was doing to him now. It was interesting, to say the least.


	3. A Suggestion

That evening, Blaise still wasn't sure of what had transpired between him and Neville this morning, but he had given up on thinking about it. Or, he had tried, but he couldn't quite get the image of that little smirk, or the sight of Longbottom's ass as he walked away. Well, there was nothing for it but to chalk it up to lust. Who would have thought he'd feel anything like that for the shrimp from Gryffindor? Not that he was going to act on it; even just a romp would earn him the eternal scorn of the rest of his house, and Blaise wasn't so stupid as to go around fucking Gryffindors.

Blaise was by his bed, sorting through the parchments that had spilled that morning, trying to find a half-finished essay when Draco entered the room, flanked by none other than Crabbe and Goyle. Blaise didn't do anything more than look up to see who was coming in, but apparently that was enough of an invitation for Draco to catch his eye and begin a conversation.

"Longbottom has detention again." There was a certain savagery in his voice as he spoke and Blaise looked over to see that Draco seemed to be glowing with pride. He didn't want to ask, he didn't want to know, but… well, he sort of did. Blaise's normally perfect poker face slipped into a frown as he crossed his arm over his chest and looked over his pale classmate.

"I thought he just had detention."

"Well, he's got another one." Blaise cocked an eyebrow but didn't ask for elaboration. He didn't need to, Draco seemed willing to talk, to share just what had occurred between he and Neville that accumulated in the detention.

"Bloody wanker though he'd tell me off for bullying some second years. Weren't even Griffindors either, it was some brats from Ravenclaw. Well, you know, since I'm a prefect and everything, I couldn't allow that kind of talk. Went right to the Carrows – after I had a little chat with him." The way that Draco was smiling indicated the chat didn't have anything to do with words. If Blaise had to guess, it was something more along the lines of a curse or a hex.

Draco looked at him, as though expecting Blaise to laugh or something, but if that was what he was waiting on, he was going to be disappointed. Blaise was not one of Draco's cronies and he wasn't ever going to be. He was a separate entity and that suited him just fine. There was no denying that the two of them shared views on a number of subjects, but Blaise wasn't one to be cruel simply for the sake of being cruel and he wasn't going to laugh at Draco hounding Neville just because he thought that was a fun past time. If you asked him, Draco seriously needed to get a hobby.

"What's the matter Blaise? Stick up your arse?" Draco apparently didn't take well to Blaise turning his back on him and refraining from praising Draco for his activities. "Or maybe it's something else." There was something in Draco's tone that made Blaise pause and turn.

"Is that supposed to mean something?"

The look on Draco's face was disdainful, but there was something else underneath that Blaise couldn't figure out. He felt a pang of annoyance before folding his arms and waiting on Draco to explain what he meant.

"I saw that look you gave Neville this morning. You liked what you saw."

Blaise's stomach dropped, even though there was no truth in Draco's statement, none at all. "I thought you'd already left." Maybe he should have denied the accusation first, but his mind was fuddled.

Draco looked triumphant. "Never mind that. What matters was you were looking at him. And he was looking at you." The last bit was tacked on, almost like an afterthought.

"So what? I told you on the train, I wouldn't touch a blood traitor like that. It's disgusting."

Draco's still looked savagely defiant, but the expression shifted after a moment. Blaise knew that face. Draco had an idea and an intuition told him that he wasn't going to like what was coming next. He wasn't going to get involved, he wasn't, he wouldn't.

"Maybe you should."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Blaise looked over to Draco and try and he might to look disdainful, all he could manage was puzzled.

"I've got an idea." Draco smirked and looked over at Blaise. This wasn't going to end well.


End file.
